roommates suck but someone to talk to sucks a little less
by svvanmillsarchive
Summary: "So we're total besties now?" (Swan Queen Week Day 2: Roommates AU.)


**Beep boop. Swan Queen Week Day 2: Roommate AU.**

**Disclaimer: Once Upon A Time isn't mine.**

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Regina gripped the handle of her suitcase as she looked out of the window of the small car, clouds zooming by and blurring into the light blue sky. She felt like crying, but she had cried herself out in the last week. There weren't any more tears; only a deep-filled regret in her gut and a gnawing hole in her stomach— and it wasn't because she was hungry. Her dark hair was swept up in a quick ponytail, a few stray hairs hanging around her face and at the back of her neck, and she was in a simple tee and jeans. No make up on, and you could see faint dark circles under her constantly red rimmed eyes from a lack of sleep. She looked at the scenery of the suburban area, just like she had been looking at the noisy Boston scenery for the last hour. Traffic had been terrible, and they were late. They had been in the car for over five hours now, and Regina's legs were slightly sore.

She didn't care. She only felt empty.

"We're here," said the social worker. The group home looked shabby. Regina automatically hated it with all of her being. "I know the death of both parents at once can be very traumatizing, but I made sure to get you to the best foster care home I could find. You'll be okay."

Regina shrugged, knowing the social worker probably only said that to makes themselves feel better. She wasn't going to be okay. Her parents were dead. A car accident. Regina had been in the car with them, but when they fell front first into a ditch from the icy roads, the worst physical injury she had sustained was a broken arm while her parents had slowly suffered. She still had her green cast on, and there were still a few more weeks until it was supposed to come off. Her mental injuries were much worse. Her parents hadn't been so lucky to die an instantaneous death, the doctor had said (he had said some other things, probably, but too many thoughts had been swimming in Regina's brain and too many tears had been blurring her vision to want to try and understand them), and they were probably alive for about an hour each, give or take, before they had passed. It was hard to get help when you were on a highway outside of a small town. Luckily, the town therapist had found their damaged car while walking his dog. Regina had been knocked out in the duration after the wreck and had woken up in the hospital, and she knew she'd be blaming herself for the rest of her life for not saving the two people she needed and cared about the most.

Sure, her parents are a little strict, demanding nothing short of straight A's and multiple extra curricular activities, but they're hers, and she loves them. Well… they were strict, she guessed. She'd never stop loving them, though. The social worker stopped the engine and started to exit the vehicle, so she reluctantly followed.

As they walked in, Regina saw an old woman worn out, flower-patterned clothes sweeping, and she looked simultaneously grandmotherly and disciplinary when need be. Her attention was stolen from her work when the door opened and she looked at the new visitors, saying, "You must be Regina?"

Regina only nodded, still silent. She didn't feel like talking to anyone at the moment.

The woman smiled. "I'm Eugenia Lucas, but you can call me Granny." Regina gave her a look that held barely any emotion, but she continued. "I already have a room for you. Here, follow me."

"This is probably my time to let myself out," said the social worker. "You've already done the paperwork?"

"Of course," Granny said. "Shoo."

The social worker nodded and left. Granny motioned her hand for Regina to follow her into a series of hallways. There were commotions going on in a few of the rooms. The sounds of a video game being played, conversations, and in one room she heard the strumming of an acoustic guitar. Anxiety slowly started creeping into Regina's thoughts. She had never had to room with anyone but herself before. She was an only child. An only child that had parents with a lucrative amount of wealth, at that. She didn't have many friends in her small town of Storybrooke and now she was in Boston, a busy city with a lot of people. She was going to have to start living with constant commotion and she wasn't used to a setting like that. It was one of the many things to add to the pile of her stressful mess of a life.

Granny led Regina to the end of the hallway, where a room lay, the door shut.

"Here it is," Granny said, wearing a sympathetic smile. Regina felt anger prick at the corners of her eyes. She didn't want any pity. So she was a 16 year old whose parents had just died in a car accident. Big whoop-dee doo, right? She only had to live in this hell hole of a system for less than two years, and then she got her parents' money they had been saving for her to go to college and their old home. Her parents didn't have any other relatives, so it wasn't like Regina could live with them or anything. She was perfectly fine. There were people worse off than her.

"I'll leave you to your new living area," Granny spoke, walking away.

Regina stood and looked at the door. It had faded white paint on a door, with a few scratches on it. There was a whiteboard attached to it, but nothing was written on the door. Would she get to room alone? Oh god, she hoped so. A newfound confidence, albeit small, built up in her, and she opened the door.

To see a girl already on one of the beds, a pair of earplugs attached to a phone, thick black glasses perched on her nose, and a book in her hands. She had curly blond hair that draped her body as she crouched, criss cross applesauce, and was absorbed in her book. Regina sighed internally and squeezed her eyes, a mild headache starting to come in. Of course. Luck obviously wasn't on her side and she had to share a room. The two gravestones in a cemetery in a town four hours away from her was proof of that.

Regina realized she needed to get the attention of the other girl, so she rolled her suitcase to the only other available bed. She would have slammed her suitcase on her bed to make a loud enough noise, but she wasn't strong enough to lug it off the ground with only one arm (and her left arm at that— her handwriting was going to be atrocious when she got this cast off—), so instead she chose to jump and bounce onto the bed, her tennis shoes hitting the wooden floor harshly.

The girl didn't budge. Well, then she was going to have to do it the hard way.

"Hey," Regina spoke, voice level at first.

"Hey," she said, louder this time.

"HEY," she practically shouted, but the girl was still absorbed in her book. Furious at everything that had happened to her, and now this, her emotions starting to seep out of her usually well-kept corked bottle, she got up, stomped to the girl, and tapped her shoulder with her pointer finger roughly.

The girl, looking startled, jumped in her seat, ripping the headphones from her ears as her hands fumbled with the book, dropping it and letting it fall into her lap. She glanced up at Regina, and Regina noticed how much of a pretty green color they were and how sparkly in the room's fluorescent ceiling light they glimmered before she noticed how irate they were.

"What." It wasn't a question. It held more a tone that someone would say something like, "Get out of my face," or, "Leave me alone," with.

"Just… we're roommates now, I guess," Regina crossed her arms, and huffed, "and it's kind of rude for you to stick earphones in and not listen to anything going on around you. That's all."

The girl's eyebrows raised. "Roommate? I'm getting a roommate?"

"Yeah, got a problem with it?" asked Regina.

"Well… no," the girl replied. "Usually they tell us a few weeks ahead when a kid's coming. Why didn't they notify anyone?"

Regina looked down, her quick and fluttery feeling slowly diminishing. Her arms went from her chest down to her sides. "Well, it wasn't exactly planned."

The girl blinked, her mood changing. She seemed to understand it wasn't herself Regina was angry at. "Ah, sorry." She paused taking the fallen book from her lap. She flipped through the pages, found her spot, and dog-eared the page, closing the book. Then, she raised her hand up to Regina's. "I'm Emma. Nice to meet you."

"Regina." Regina took Emma's hand and felt a flush appear on her cheeks. She ignored it and hoped Emma didn't notice. "So… why wasn't your name on the whiteboard?"

"Eh," shrugged Emma. "I didn't feel like putting it on there."

"Well, I was sort of off put when I didn't expect anyone to be in the room and then opened the door to find someone," Regina said. "Maybe you should pay more attention to your surroundings next time?"

"What, are you offended that I'm in here?" Emma questioned.

"No…" Regina started. She felt embarrassed. "I just haven't shared a room with anyone before."

Emma nodded. "Oh." She patted the spot next to her on her bed. "Sit? You obviously have a story. I can tell by the cast."

"I don't really know if I'm ready to tell my story yet," whispered Regina, and she sat down on the bed, her back slightly slumped. The arm in her cast itched as soon as it was mentioned, it always did that, and her fingers tightened defeatedly, knowing there was nothing she could do to cease it.

Emma put her arm around Regina's shoulders, making sure she was careful with the cast. "Well, you want me to tell mine so you feel better?"

"You would tell a total stranger about your life? Just like that?" Regina gazed at Emma dubiously.

Emma chucked. "Eh, I've told enough people already. And it's on file, so countless adults know. I don't really care."

"Oh...kay."

"Well," Emma looked up at the ceiling, "let's see… ah, yes. I've never had parents. I was found abandoned on the side of a highway as a baby, with only a blanket and the name 'Emma' stitched on it. I'm 16 years old and I've been in 5 foster homes and 4 group homes." Emma looked at Regina. "That's about it, to be honest. Your turn?"

Regina looked at Emma like she had just asked her to strip.

"One sentence," Emma assured. "It'll make you feel better. Promise."

"My parents died in a car accident a week ago," Regina finally said after a moment of silence. Emma knew that's all Regina would tell.

"That's a good start," Emma gently said. "I've learned that having someone to tell your feelings to helps a lot with feeling better."

"And who said you'll be the one I'll tell my feelings to?" asked Regina, her voice partly teasing, partly serious and scared.

"I can just tell we're gonna be good friends," Emma smiled. "It's my superpower."

"Superpower?" Regina raised an eyebrow.

"That, and I can tell when someone lies," said Emma. "Wanna test it?"

"No," Regina said.

"See?" laughed Emma, poking Regina in the side playfully. "That was a lie."

Regina blushed a little, and Emma laughed harder.

"Whatever," grumbled Regina, her eyes on her shoes momentarily. She looked back up at Emma. "Do you have a dry erase marker?"

"Why would I have a dry erase marker?" Emma asked. "Do I look like a middle school teacher to you?"

"I wanna put our names on the board," Regina uttered out, just loud enough for Emma to hear, and Emma laughed.

"Our room?" Emma wiggled her eyebrows at Regina. "So we're total besties now? Can I sign your cast?"

"I just don't want people to think that there's no one in here, like I did, okay?" Regina asked a little snappily.

"You'll open up to me soon enough," Emma promised, softly tapping Regina on the nose. She then got up. "I'm getting a snack. See ya."

Regina watched as Emma padded out of the room, and to, presumably, the kitchen.

Maybe having someone to confide in wouldn't be such a terrible thing after all, Regina thought.

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**Reviews are the booties to my walking dog. As in... I think dogs trying to walk in booties is incredibly adorable to watch... It sounded nicer in my head.**


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